


Of Whiskey Bottles and Baby Turtles

by quarantinedchipslut



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), Shadowhunters (TV) RPF, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: Beaches, Drunk Magnus Bane, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, Not Beta Read, Protective Alec Lightwood, We Die Like Men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:22:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26915089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quarantinedchipslut/pseuds/quarantinedchipslut
Summary: Magnus is just trying to get himself drunk on the beach one fateful midnight when he was confronted by a baby turtle-loving young man.
Relationships: Magnus Bane & Alec Lightwood, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 12
Kudos: 74





	Of Whiskey Bottles and Baby Turtles

**Author's Note:**

> Was inspired by Dua Lipa's newest song "Levitating" featuring DaBaby (streaaam it) and also by my friend Lynx who was sharing these awesome beach pics from Bali in our Hunter's Moon Discord server. Also I love baby turtles so much. My spirit animal. Decided I wasn't too tired to sleep yet so I went on to write this. I hope you enjoy this mindless piece.

🌕💫🐢

The moon was eerily beautiful that starlit night. It shone so bright, creating sparkling ripples on the waves that washed over his cold toes. The sand was sharp against his cheek and his chest as he focused his wavering glare at the last drop of liquor hanging from the mouth of the already-empty bottle of whisky. The drop fell on a conch shell and he blinked blearily. He could feel the ocean air kissing his bare back, causing goosebumps. 

He wanted to get drunk so much so that he could not notice how fucking beautiful the moon was, how the fucking salty air was clearing his clogged nostrils and just how fucking alone he was.

Magnus sighed, exasperated. 

He pushed against the sand into a sitting position and groaned as the motion jarred his head to start the mother of all headaches he was sure he would have tomorrow. Picking the bottle, Magnus tsked and threw it at the water with a vengeance. 

"You had one job!" He shouted, angry at the alcohol, angry at himself and livid at everything.

A few moments later, Magnus heard the angry stomp of steps storming in his direction.

"Hey! You're not supposed to throw trash at the ocean. Garbage cans exist for a reason. What if you hit a baby turtle with that bottle huh?" A deep and husky voice chastised him. He kept his eyes on the ocean and took a deep breath. 

"The fuck I care about baby turtles!" Magnus spat and buried his hands on the sand, trying to draw strength underneath. This was a complete failure. It was one of the things he prided himself at, getting blind drunk and he failed on the night he needed to. Now, he's engaged in a would-be fight with a turtle-loving beach idiot and Magnus couldn't, for the life of him, understand how the man's voice elicited a shiver from him.

With an affronted gasp, the man came into his view and at that moment, Magnus felt like a baby turtle seeing the ocean for the first time when his eggshell cracked.

"What is your problem?" Magnus' eyes met strong-looking legs, peppered with glistening wet hairs and he let his gaze travel upwards to an impressive bulge trapped inside tight beach trunks. He had to suppress a filthy moan when the man's V-line peeked through his shorts. His abs were glorious, like he was sculpted unfairly by some goddamn sea god or something. A spattering of delicious chest hair covered his pecs. The moonlight chose to shine at the stranger's face like a curse of fate intent on destroying Magnus further. 

His eyes were a wonder. Soft, warm brown pools with flecks of green that made Magnus stupidly gasp like a fish out of the water. 

And those wonderful eyes were currently… _enraged_. 

"Y-you," Magnus stuttered and cursed when the man stared at him, confused. 

The sea god or whatever he was, huffed frustratingly and splashed his way around the portion of the shoreline they were in, looking for something. 

He stalked back to where Magnus was, holding up the bottle of whisky he discarded earlier. 

"No, Mister. You are the problem. Get off my property!" The man said as he pushed the offending bottle back on Magnus' arms. 

"What? I'm currently staying here!"

"You meant at the resort five miles from here,"

"You're kidding."

"I am not. Did you just walked for miles at night like a sad man without knowing where you're going?" The stranger scoffed. 

As if everything could get worse than it already is. He fell on his back, bone-tired, ignoring the way the sand and pieces of shell poked at his back. 

"Can I pass the night here, please? I promise to behave. I won't throw things and most of all, I won't scare away any baby turtles," he pleaded in a joking tone. 

The man's hard expression softened considerably. Judging from the lights coming out from a white mansion from the distance, Magnus couldn't fault himself for thinking it was his resort in his semi-drunken stupor. It was that huge. 

"Out here? In the cold? With no proper clothes on?" The stranger perked a sinful scarred eyebrow. Hell. Where did this strange man come from? 

"Why not? I was totally fine trying to drown myself in my sea-rrows til you came along,"

Magnus was rewarded with a small smile from the man's perfect lips. "You're insufferable. Come with me. It's warm in my place."

"Is this how you pick people up?"

"No, I am not picking you up. I just don't want you hurting the turtles. This is near their nesting ground so I was up all night, trying to guard it. I fell asleep and was woken up by a madman shouting and throwing a bottle at the ocean," he replied, reaching out to pull Magnus up. 

His palm was big and warm against his cold fingers. Magnus held onto it for a little more than necessary. The stranger cocked his head and Magnus dropped his hand, flustered. 

The two of them walked side by side, the man ahead of him for a couple of steps. 

"So what's your story?" The man asked conversationally. 

"Oh. We're on that stage now? Whatever happened to 'Get off my property,' pretty boy?"

Even in the dark, Magnus' eyes zeroed in on the blush creeping up on the man's back. 

"It's Alexander Lightwood. But everybody calls me Alec," he murmured, avoiding Magnus' eyes as they continued trudging on the beach, the sounds of their wet slippers joining the gentle splash of the waves. It was a beautiful night, Magnus thought, and it was pity he wasted it by trying to get drunk. 

But maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't be a waste, after all. 

"Well, Alexander," he marvelled at how the name rolled on his tongue,"it's nice to meet you. I'm Magnus Bane."


End file.
